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I snap out of my dirty thoughts and look over to the ring box and note still sitting on the table. Trey grabs the ring while Tucker snatches the note up. I watch Tucker read it, his muscles tightening with rage the further he gets. When he finishes, he slams his hand to the table with the note underneath it.

He opens and closes his mouth as he tries to come up with something, anything, to say but I know there are no words. Ryan’s notes and “gifts” are getting increasingly more disturbing. This one almost seems to be taunting me with its playful, poetic nature. It takes a moment but Trey is finally able to get the note away from Tucker. His face morphs into one of pure rage that honestly surprises me. He’s spent his life chasing off my asshole boyfriends and defending me but I’ve never seen him this angry.

He lays his head in his hands and his chest expands as he takes several deep breaths. After a moment, he looks up and meets my eyes. “Why is he sending you the ring, Em?”

I freeze. My body locks up to the point of being uncomfortable as I think about telling them what I think the ring means. Telling them about how he locked me in that room and the words he said to me then. Nix’s mouth brushes over my ear and I relax into him slightly.

“It’s okay, Em. You can tell them. I’m right here.”

Taking a deep breath, I look at my brothers, both standing, too wound up to sit still at this point. “You better sit down.”

“Shit, that bad?” Trey asks, looking to Nix for confirmation. Nix just nods. Tucker growls while Trey blows out a breath and runs a hand through his hair but they both do as I ask.

“All right, out with it, Emma,” Tucker says.

I go rigid again. My mind is racing, trying to find the best way to tell them something like this. The little voice, his voice, in the back of my head is telling me to keep it to myself, that they’ll never understand. They’ll think I’m just being overly dramatic.

“Em!” Tucker barks and my head snaps up to look at him.

“Give her a goddamn minute, dude!” Nix’s voice is like valium, taking the edge off my panic and giving me courage to tell them what I know they need to hear.

“Holy shit,” Trey whispers once I finish, his eyes dropping to the floor. I’m kind of surprised by their reactions. It seems stupid now but I really expected them to call me crazy or dramatic.

“Like a motherfuckin’ prisoner?” Tucker asks. I nod. “How long, baby girl?” He is staring at me, his eyes burning with a fury I’ve never seen in either of my brothers before.

“Um…almost twenty four hours.”

Trey gasps and Tucker slams his fist into the table. I jump, my body locking up in fear on instinct.

Nix’s arms tighten around me and he kisses my hair before turning to my brother and growling, “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t get fucking violent around her.”

“Holy fuck,” Tucker rasps as he finally gets what Nix is saying. “Goddamn it, Emma! You are going to tell us everything!”

“Everyone chill the fuck out!” Trey barks, making everyone turn to him in shock. “This isn’t about anyone but Emma so shut the fuck up and just chill out!”

“Sorry, baby girl,” Tucker mutters and Nix squeezes me closer to him.

“Em, what does the ring mean? It’s not making sense to me.”

“When he threw me in the room, he told me that ring meant that I was his and that he would never let me go.” All three of them draw in ragged breaths and I can almost see their minds racing.

“We need help,” Trey pipes up. “We are in way over our heads. We’ve barely scratched the surface of what this guy has done to you, Em, and it’s already clear that he’s insane.”

“Could we go to a different precinct and report this? I mean, they didn’t really do a whole lot the last time you went in there,” Trey asks. All three guys look back and forth between each other.

“I don’t know,” Tucker says.

“I could ask my dad for help,” Nix says, his voice tight and I know instantly that he’s not exactly fond of the idea.

“You don’t have to do that, baby.” I grab his face in my hands and direct his gaze to mine. He smiles up at me and lays his hand over mine.

“Walk through fire, sweetheart,” he says, reminding me of his earlier declaration. “Asking my dad for help is nothing.”

“You hate it. I can tell. You don’t have to do this for me. We can find another answer.” He slides his fingers into my hair, curling his hand behind my head, and pulls me toward him.